


The Future's Not Ours To See

by arenoseAnima



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 06:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arenoseAnima/pseuds/arenoseAnima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alpha Rose writes a letter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Future's Not Ours To See

_If you’re reading this, I’m four hundred years dead. It’s cliché, but there you have it. I was probably killed in a debatably heroic effort to prevent a future I know will come to pass anyway. What else does one do, when the child one is promised arrives hundreds of years too late? When life seems hollow and pointless, empty sacrifices are the trend du jour._

_But I digress._

_I can only hope you’ve somehow learned to read, or this note is completely futile. I’ve been assured many a time that your needs will be taken care of, but the words of the dreaming dead aren’t much to go on for a living woman. I’ve left you things I thought would be useful in a post-apocalyptic world; there are enough stashes that even allowing for the collapse of society you should have enough. (I’ve also left you my novels. They’re the furthest thing from ‘useful’ I can imagine, but please excuse me my vanity. There are further notes in the inside covers and throughout the text; read them in order, if you’d be so kind.)_

_In case someone has neglected to inform you, I’ve named you Roxy. I’ve heard it was my own mother’s name, and I’d like to honor my swiftly-fading memory of her; if you’d rather not be named for a woman dead for billions of years, I promise I won’t be hurt. Really._

_There are many more things I’d like to say, but it’s difficult to put them in print. I know I’ll be reviewing this letter many, many times before you find it. I’ll hold it while I imagine your face and your voice, and while I imagine calling you to find out about your day, and to make sure you’re all right and that everything is going well, out there in the cold future. I wish I could visit you. I love you, Roxy, more than you’ll ever know and more than I could ever articulate. Please, be safe. Don’t drink too much of the alcohol I left for you; I had a taste for it myself, and I know it can help after a long day. If it makes you happy, think of me when you drink it. Don’t forget to brush your teeth. Be kind and loyal to your friends. Read often. Write often, if you find you enjoy it. Pursue whatever you like, and don’t listen to anyone who tells you what you can’t do._

_I don’t know how to end this. I don’t want to end this. I wish there were some way for you to respond, but the very concept is ridiculous; no one could possibly be expected to hold a correspondence from centuries in the future. The only thing I can do is tell you, again, that I love you. I love you more than four hundred years could possibly hope to contain. I wish you all the best in your future endeavors, and that you’ll heed at least a few words of my advice. I’ve enclosed some pictures for you. There are duplicates of them on my nightstand._

_Rose_

 


End file.
